He closed his eyes with a groan of regret. “I never should have taken you with me in the first place. Not until you knew how to get from one place to another.”
“You mean all the maps of Chicago Mariko and Emme insisted I memorize? They drilled it into me that I had to know my way around every single city that I went to. I needed to be studying all the time. Fortunately, I have a pretty remarkable memory. I can look at something and file it away. Mariko said that wasn’t good enough and said she wanted me to study the map of Chicago, so I did. Now I know why she insisted.”
“You think you could figure out how to maneuver through the shadows riding that fast, scared and in the dark, disoriented and possibly sick, alone, and know where you were in order to figure out where you have to go to get out?”
She put both hands on his chest and pushed to give herself room to step back so she could look up at him, her dark eyes meeting his. “The one thing I know above anything else, Taviano, is that you do whatever it is you have to do in order to survive. I would do it. And then I’d go back, and I’d find you. If you were in trouble, I’d get to you.” There was calm conviction in her voice.
Taviano knew she meant every word. More, he was absolutely certain she would do just what she said. She might suffer a few agonies while she figured it out, but she’d get it done and she’d go back for him. He threaded his fingers through the weave of her braid at the nape of her neck, where it was thick and soft.
“I did pretty well here in the house, with you following me, not helping me, Taviano,” she pointed out. “I didn’t get sick going back to the plane, and I didn’t, not once, here. I managed to find my way into each room. Granted, I was going slow, but it was me, controlling how fast I went.” There was satisfaction in her voice. Pride, even.
“It’s no wonder I’m in love with you. The wonder is, no one else knows what a treasure you are. I wish I could have met your mother, Nicoletta. She must have been something special.”
“She was.”
Taviano took her hand and they walked through the house back toward the kitchen. He’d glanced at his watch to see if Stefano had texted him, but the last message had merely said that no word had come in from the New York cousins. Rigina and Rosina had their eyes on Los Angeles and Chicago, and so far, there was no real movement. Stefano suggested they relax until he gave the word to move.
“Your parents never had any other children.” Taviano made it a statement.
“Mom couldn’t have any more after me. She always said I was enough for her, and my father—adoptive father, but for me the only father I ever knew, and I loved him very much—said he was happy with me. He certainly made me feel that he was.”
He waved her to a barstool so she could sit while he washed fresh berries he’d had brought in earlier for her. He mixed them up in a bowl and put them in front of her. She loved fruit. He’d also gotten dragon fruit and passion fruit, fresh mango and papaya, and cherimoyas, the last, one of his personal favorites. She loved cherries, and he had those brought in for her as well. He cut up a few mixes of the exotic fruits and laid them out for her, along with several different cheeses, honey, jam, crackers and spiced nuts.
“You’re totally spoiling me.”
“That’s my intention,” he admitted. He sat opposite her and nabbed one of the small plates he’d set beside the cheese plate. “Eat, woman. You always want to be well hydrated and have something in your stomach.”
“So I can throw up all over your brother?”
“That won’t happen this time.” He poured confidence into his voice and hoped it wouldn’t happen.
Stefano might use her being sick as an excuse to ban Nicoletta from the shadows until he saw fit to proclaim she was fully ready. Taviano knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from practicing on her own. She had been telling the truth when she said it was a compulsion now, a need. It was for all shadow riders when they reached a certain point in their training. That was when they were usually sent out of the country to be trained with other families. That was the point when it was known to their parents and trainers that they were true riders.
He knew Nicoletta was a true shadow rider. He just hoped Stefano saw it as well. She had no experience and little training, but she had the instincts, and her body was strangely adapting faster than he had ever seen or heard of a rider adapting. He knew the Archambault family was different. No one ever spoke of why they were different, but they were the ones policing the riders for a reason. Elie was crazy fast in the shadows. He had amazing reflexes. Sometimes he was so fast, his hands or feet appeared a blur when he fought. All of the Ferraros preferred training with him. Working with anyone that good improved their speed as well. Nicoletta had Archambault blood running in her veins.